


You're Wrong

by ImaKaraTabiHe



Series: What is "Normal"? [5]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, OCD - Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, True Love, Worry, protective Len
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-03 18:18:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10254248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImaKaraTabiHe/pseuds/ImaKaraTabiHe
Summary: A message from Barry leads to Len cutting his business trip short and returning to Central as fast as possible.





	

Going to Keystone, leaving Barry behind, it was a lot harder than Len had thought it would be. The safe house he kept there felt cold and empty. No matter how many lights he turned on it all just felt so dark. It was because Barry wasn't with him.

When they'd grown closer and Barry had begun to spend nights at Len's apartment, he realized just how lonely his apartment was without his Scarlet. Nothing had changed, and yet everything had changed. Somehow his apartment became less of a place to crash on his downtime and more of, well… Home.

It had made him feel insecure at first, making him pause to look at himself in the mirror and search his own eyes for signs of change. He found them. It was the hope that was once again shining in his eyes, the smoothed lines of his facial muscles, and the way his shoulders felt loose. Barry changed him, made him someone better, happier.

Seeing himself in the mirror at that moment, made him realize that he had fallen for the hero without even realizing it. Sure, he'd liked Barry's company from the first time he'd met Flash, but falling in love? That had happened with a sneakiness that even Len couldn't pull off. It was odd how it wasn't annoying to the experienced thief, but he didn't question it.

Leonard Snart, aka Captain Cold – Rogue, thief, former murderer, was in love with a hero. Wasn't that just odd.

Still, whenever he saw Barry, heard his laughter and saw the way his cheeks would heat up in that lovely red, he could care less about anything else. Barry Allen had grown near and dear to him. For someone who had learned early on to not trust or love, his heart was Barry's.

Living together brought a lot of new experiences, brought out parts of them that they'd been insecure about revealing. Len thought that his tendency to steal covers had been something to be nervous about, but when Barry had broken down and told him about his OCD, suddenly being a cover thief wasn't such a big deal.

OCD. Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. Len knew what it was. He'd seen it growing up among some of the kids in Juvie. Those kids saw specialists about their disorders, were taught how to calm down, and at times, given medicine to help manage their conditions, but Barry had no help. He'd practically grown up with it, tucking it away like a dirty secret.

It wasn't, though. OCD wasn't anything to be ashamed of. Sure, there were people out there who weren't understanding of it, who looked upon those with OCD like they were freaks, but OCD didn't make people freaks. People made people freaks with their stupid judgments. Those same kinds of people were the ones who'd convinced Barry into believing that he'd be less of a person, that he'd be a freak for having OCD.

Idiots – the lot of them. He wanted to march out there and freeze anyone and everyone who'd made Barry feel lesser, feel like he wouldn't belong or be loved regardless of his OCD.

His Barry is no freak. He just needs a little bit of help to get better, and Len will be there every step of the way, because that's what you do for people you love. That's just one of the things Len will do for Barry.

Opening the door to his apartment in Keystone City with a pack of a mild ale he enjoys, Len absolutely hates everything and everyone keeping him apart from Barry. He flips on the lights with irritation, kicking off his shoes. He still has another day or two of negotiations and being polite and all that bullshit.

He just wants to go home to Barry.

Len lets himself fall back onto the couch with a sigh. Maybe he could just call Barry for a few minutes, if he's not busy, that is. He's enjoyed hearing about the fun he and Cisco have been having for the most part.

Setting the beer aside, he takes out his phone and unlocks it. 'Hm… One message,' he thinks, wondering what Barry is going to say he and Cisco watched this time. Apparently, movie marathons are commonplace between those two, although Len thinks his are still better.

While he wasn't exactly on bad terms with Cisco, things were tense. Joe had kicked Barry out when he realized that Barry was seeing a criminal. They hadn't shared the news with anyone else, though somehow word had gotten around to Team Flash that Barry was seeing someone… unscrupulous. Len imagines things would been more than simply tense if everyone knew that the “unscrupulous character” is Captain Cold. So far it's going good.

He's sure that Barry is dreading Iris finding out.

With lingering thoughts of possible hostility from Barry's friends, Len opened the message. What he read, made his stomach drop and his blood run cold.

Barry: _Maybe you were wrong. I am a freak._

His fingers flew on the screen, bringing up Barry's number and hitting 'send' before he could think about it. As it rings in his ear, he's throwing things in his getaway bag, stumbling as he pulls his shoes back on. 'Come on, Barry,' he thinks, starting to freak out with every second that goes by and – _he's still not answering._

“ _You've reached Barry Allen. Leave me a message and I'll get back with you as quick as I can...”_ Barry's voice says in an automated recording.

Brows furrowed and lips frowning, Len hastily pulls his jacket on, slinging his bag on his shoulder before fumbling with the keys. He has to get back _now._ He's out the door and into one of the cars he keeps under an alias, driving back to Central City.

With one hand clutching the wheel, he calls Barry back five more times until it no longer dials. He'd either turned it off or it had died. He can't be sure at this point. Swearing under his breath, he calls Lisa and let her know that the rest of the formalities would be up to her. Needless to say, she asked why she'd be going at it alone, but when Len had mentioned Barry, she was more than happy to fill in for him.

Believe it or not, Lisa and Barry got along very well, actually. Lisa's personality was forceful and brash, sometimes sickly sweet when she wanted something, but Barry was forgiving and honest. He truly cared for her as a friend, and she came to care for him (once she'd finished reaming Len for keeping his “honey bear” a secret).

It feels like it takes forever until he sees the sign for Central City limits. Len forces himself to go a little slower. Nothing good will come of it if he attracts the wrong kind of attention. It still makes him grind his teeth with irritation though.

Once he arrives, he barely remembers to lock the car door as he rushes up the stairs and to their apartment. He swears as he fumbles with the keys, growling about the fact that he might just have an easier time picking the lock than using the keys at this moment. The flickering light from the street lamp doesn't help much either.

Finally inside, Len's eyes sweep around the rooms. “Barry?” There's no answer. The light inside the laundry room is still on, washing over the dirty laundry that sat in the laundry basket.

“Barry?” he called again, heart pounding in his chest with fear. Len knows he's home, or at least, he sees Barry's suit on top of the dirty clothes, so he should be home. He's just… not answering. It doesn't make him feel better.

What if he's left? What if he simply tore his suit off and abandoned it here to go out? But, he wouldn't do that. Would he? He can't run without it or his clothes will catch on fire. He's got to be here, but why isn't he answering?

Although it's just been a little over a week since Barry's OCD has come to light, Len's already learned to shuck his shoes at the door. Carpet attracts a lot of dirt, and it's so hard to scrub. His feet slide into slippers that he's found for himself since Barry likes to wear them to avoid dragging dirt everywhere. Len understands that. It's not like anyone cleans their floors everyday.

He walks through the living room, but nothing looks out of place. The door to the bedroom is slightly ajar as Len turns on the hallway light. He approaches with light feet, pushing the door open with a soft creak.

The low light from the hallway spills in, allowing Len to make out the outline of feet under the blankets. Len flicked on a lamp to its lowest level as his eyes followed the feet up. He's not sure why but it tugged at his heart to see his lover's form under the blankets, form rising and falling as he breathed.

Padding softly over to the bed, Len swallows as he drags the covers from Barry's head. He can't help but suck in a breath as he seems Barry's tear stained face. He kneels beside the bed, reaching out and lightly shaking Barry's shoulder. “Barry,” he calls, trying not to sound like it's urgent. It is though.

Barry wakes slowly, body unfurling from its safe fetal position. His eyes are bloodshot, and there's something like heartbreak in his eyes. “L-Len?” his voice cracked, thick with sleep and emotion.

He looked so hopeful that Len cupped his cheek, giving him a soft smile as he tried to push down his worries. “Yeah, Scarlet. It's me. I'm back,” he assured.

Unshed tears filled Barry's eyes and he launched himself at Len, nearly knocking the two onto the floor. His arms curled around Len, holding onto him tight as he pressed his face into Len's parka. “I missed you,” Barry said, voice wavering.

Len hugged Barry back tightly. “I missed you too.” He held Barry for a while more before he pulled back enough to see Barry's face. “Hey there,” he murmured, holding Barry's gaze.

Barry chuckled, weakly. “Hi,” he whispered.

Seconds passed before Len asked gently, “What happened?” He could see Barry's teeth bite at his lower lip as anxiety filled his features. Barry's fingers dug into his clothing.

“Everything was going great...” Barry told him about spending time with Cisco, the off handed remarks about his OCD, although Barry assured him that he didn't take it bad. At least, he hadn't until going to Star City. “And then he said 'You can't ask something like that of Barry.' I hoped he wouldn't keep going, but he did. He told Oliver that I don't touch 'dirty things'.”

Len listened with growing heat. He can't believe Cisco was so hurtful. He thought he was leaving Barry in the hands of someone who would be more open and accepting, but this? He hadn't expected this. What was Cisco thinking?

“A-and then he said,” Barry's face scrunched up with anger, tears starting to spill from his eyes. “He said, ' _He's got this_ _ **thing.**_ _'”_

The desire to knock Cisco on his ass bubbled up inside Len. He doesn't think Queen said anything from what Barry's told him, but Len knows that the archer doesn't only prefer words. He seems to have a brash body language. “Did Queen say anything?”

Barry shakes his head, wiping at his cheeks. “Nothing bad. I just… didn't want to stick around for him to have the chance. I was so mad at Cisco, so ashamed. I couldn't stay there.”

Len's thumb wipes away a tear that's trailed down his lover's cheek. If Queen ever did say anything, he'd be ready to ice him. “Barry, there's no reason for you to feel ashamed. No one is perfect, and, while OCD isn't exactly the best, it's not the worst.” He brushed his lips against Barry's forehead.

“I know how hard it is for you. I've seen you struggle with it, and sometimes it really gives you a solid kick, but you keep going. When you're the Flash, you don't let it take control of you, because you're too determined to help others to allow your own discomforts to take over,” Len continued. “You're so strong, Scarlet. Cisco just doesn't see it yet.”

Barry looked torn between wanting to believe Len and being unable to accept that. He didn't think he was strong. People needed him to be there, to help them, so he went. OCD made their apartment his safe haven, but he wouldn't let it dictate whether or not he saved people.

“But… I haven't always. Sometimes, I can't help but use a lot of hand sanitizer. Sometimes I can't sit down and relax in places that set me off,” Barry babbled, throat constricting. “It's so hard sometimes.”

“Yes, it is,” Len concedes slightly. “But you still keep going, Scarlet. You can't be in control all the time, and no one is, really, but when it counts you pull through. I've seen you wade through grime to save someone before. You didn't flinch or hesitate for a moment.” He looked into Barry's eyes, determined to get him to see what he saw. “You're a hero, OCD or not. You, Barry Allen, are a hero.”

“ Am I?” Barry whispered, conflicted.

Len let his hand stroke Barry's cheek as he replied, confident, “You're not a freak. You're the best hero there is.” He kisses Barry's lips, savoring the feel of his Speedster's gentle lips against his.

“The best, huh?” Barry repeated, chuckling wetly.

Grinning, Len nods. “The red leather doesn't hurt either,” he said as he rubs Barry's lower back.

Sputtering, Barry replied, “It-it's not red leather! It's a complex tri-polymer-”

“It's hot, Scarlet,” Len interrupted, smirking as Barry's cheeks flushed. His lover looked so beautiful in red, so powerful and sexy.

“ Len,” Barry whined, embarrassed and pleased at the same time. He clung to Len when their lips met again, strong and possessive.

Once their lips parted, Len and Barry got up. Len wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed with Barry and wrap his arms around his lover, but he knew better than anyone that Barry's nerves were frazzled. Aggravating his OCD would hurt Barry, and Len never wanted to do anything to hurt Barry. “Join me in the shower, Scarlet?”

Barry's eyes sparkled with happiness and gratitude. He wasn't blind to why Len had suggested a shower so late at night. Even though Len was tired, he wanted to help Barry get comfortable and feel safe. “I'd love to.”

They showered slowly despite the weary exhaustion washing over them. The hot water and scent of soaps lulled them into a relaxed state as they washed one another, scrubbing gently and carefully. Together they washed their bodies of the day's dirt as well as the bad memories. They were stronger together, complete.

Out of the shower, Len helped Barry into pajamas he'd give him to for Christmas. They were an intermix of red and blue, lightning bolts and snowflakes – Len had actually had them specially made. He knew from the way Barry had sucked in a gasp the moment he touched them that he too had loved the soft material. Honestly, Len loved the feel, but even more than that he loved the way Barry looked in them – adorable. They felt even softer on Barry.

Barry insisted on helping Len into his own pajamas. They were the same material, but Len's were dark blue with ice cubes curling around the cuffs and bottoms of the bottoms. Somehow, Barry had found out where Len had gotten his made and gave Len a return set for New Year's. His lover was fast.

Dressed, they brushed their teeth and got ready for bed, both eager to crawl under the warm covers to lay with one another side by side. Len helped Barry dry his hair with a towel and deemed him “dry enough” to get some sleep. He needed it, even if Len had woken him. The anxiety was still thrumming under the surface, ready to strike at the first sign of defenselessness, but Len would be there for him. He could sleep easier this time.

Yawning, Barry crawled back into bed, this time feeling less alone, more safe. Len's arms wound their way around him and he nestled into the Rogue's arms. “Thank you, Len,” he whispered.

Len smiled, pressing his lips to Barry's hair. “Sleep, Scarlet,” he murmured. “Everything's going to be okay . I'm here.” He turned the lamp off when Barry's eyes slid closed and his breath evened out.

Tomorrow he'd sort out Cisco and Queen. If they even dared insult Barry, he'd knock them on their asses. No one was allowed to hurt him. No one. He would be there to protect Barry.

For now, though, he breathed in Barry's light scent, losing himself in Barry's body heat, glad that he'd been able to make it home as fast as he had. He would have hated himself if he'd let Barry go through this alone, but he wasn't going to. He was going to be there for Barry, prove to him that he's wrong about being a freak. 

**Author's Note:**

> Will definitely be one or two more parts.
> 
> tumblr: tabihe


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